My mother and father separated when I was five years old. It is my earliest and clearest childhood memory.

That night, I woke up in their bed alone. Being an only child, I would lie between them since I was scared of sleeping by myself. As I looked for my parents, a dim hallway light shined through the crack of our bedroom door. When I followed it, I heard my mother’s voice in a stoic tone. She told my father that she was leaving him.

As I opened the door, I saw my parents at the dinner table. They sat across from each other like adversaries. With my body halfway out the door, confusion begged for me to say something. But, fear held me back. The stark scenario seemed like no place for a child, so I remained silent. I closed the door and tucked myself in. I learned that there were worse things in life than sleeping in bed alone.

The country’s 40–50% divorce rate is a loaded statistic that everyone knows. As a child of divorce, I find it especially difficult to ignore. I carry that number in the back of my mind when a friend announces his or her engagement. I think about it when I attend a loved one’s wedding. I dwell on it when I poke holes in my current relationship.

My expectations for love were forever shaped by that night. After seeing my mother leave my father, I would never dare to dream of childish fantasies such as a fairy-tale wedding or a Prince Charming. Instead, I hoped for one thing throughout my life: When I get married, I’ll never get divorced. It was an understandable ambition, but in time, I learned it was a foolish one.

When my parents separated, my mother moved in with one of her girlfriends and my father stayed in our apartment. They made their best attempt at co-parenting by switching off at the end of every week — one week with mom, one week with dad. As they shuttled me back and forth, I witnessed my father’s attempts to win back his wife. He would beg for marriage counseling, ask her out on dates, and deliver sentimental gifts. But my mother’s mind was made up.

One day, he gave her a batch of roses. My mom didn’t know I saw the card.

“Just wanted to know what it felt like to buy you flowers one last time,” it read.

His words did nothing. A few years later, my mother took their relationship to court and filed for divorce.

Although I spent some time in the courtroom, I don’t remember much. Only that I missed a few days of school to address questions asked by monotone lawyers. I played with Silly Putty to keep myself entertained as they spoke. Their words meant nothing. My parents’ marriage was ending. How were my answers supposed to change that? At eight years old, I didn’t have a grasp about what was going on and what was bound to happen. Then, a decision was made, and I was forced to understand. The divorce was finalized, and my mom was granted full custody. This outcome made her the villain. A callous and selfish woman who broke my father’s heart and ruined our family.

That image was a direct contrast to the pedestal that I placed my dad on. While our time together was limited by phone calls and weekend visits, I continued to have a strong relationship with him. He was the cool parent who let me stay up until midnight eating Buffalo wings and watching South Park. Even as he reluctantly re-entered the dating pool, I encouraged him. I hoped for a warm and kind woman who would be loyal to him. And, that’s exactly who he found. A few years after the divorce, he began a new chapter with my current step-mom.

Throughout most of my teenage years, I stuck by the Good Cop and Bad Cop roles that I had assigned to my parents. While I loved my mom, I harbored resentment from the divorce that would manifest itself in the form of bickering and occasional screaming matches. Then, in my early twenties, I experienced my first break-up. That moment forced me to reevaluate my perception of my mother and of divorce.

After three tumultuous years, I ended an on-again-off-again relationship with my high school sweetheart. I did it over Skype during my semester abroad with no other emotion than being annoyed. I found the sound of his cries to be infuriating. When my mom asked me what the last straw was, I told her it was simple. It wasn’t anger or sadness or scorn. I just fell out of love with him. To my surprise, she gave an empathetic smile and nodded. It was then I remembered. That was her same reason for leaving my father.

My mother had explained this to me years ago, but I never understood what she meant. After all, you can’t comprehend the sensation of falling out of love with someone. Not until you experience it for yourself. It’s looking at the person who you’ve known for years and suddenly feeling nothing for them. It’s being able to finish their sentences only to realize that you’ve grown apart. It’s knowing that you love them with the caveat of not being in love with them. When I realized that, I wanted to thank my mother. I wanted to thank her for the divorce that spared my parents from a loveless marriage.

The year after my break-up, I graduated from college. Both of my parents attended the commencement ceremony. My mom wore the biggest smile on her face as she took pictures of me from every angle. My dad looked on proudly as he came hand-in-hand with my step-mom. While my parents had come together on multiple occasions before then, it was one of the first times that their encounter lacked full-scale fights and passive aggressive remarks. Instead, they greeted each other with warmth and respect. The sight of it was an invaluable graduation gift.

When I think about their marriage, it’s easy for me to remember the divorce. The memory of it still breeds occasional doubt when it comes to matters of love. But, I no longer fear it. I understand it. I know that divorce is not the worst thing that can happen to a relationship — unhappiness is. I also found the strength to look beyond the painful past and to see what was in front of me. I saw a strong, independent, and genuinely happy mother. I saw a father who weathered the course of heartbreak to find a new and more compatible wife. More importantly, I saw two parents who continued to love and raise their child together. All of these things and myself were the products of a beautiful divorce.

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The post In Defense of Divorce first appeared on BonBon Break.

I thought I would get used to sharing her, or not seeing her on Christmas morning, but I haven’t. What I have done, however, is figure out how to make it easier on my child, and on myself. Some favorite holiday carols offer some instruction on surviving the holidays as a co-parent.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s the hap–happiest season of all.”

– It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Look at the holidays as a season, not a day. That perspective shift can make a tremendous difference. Christmas morning or the first night of Hanukkah are not the only times during which holiday memories are made. There is magic all around this time of year. It can come in the giggles from working in the kitchen together or as you wrap presents together for others or watching the holiday concert at school. Those warm fuzzy feelings will last a lifetime, regardless of the date on the calendar.

“For I’ve grown a little leaner, grown a little colder/Grown a little sadder, grown a little older/And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder/I need a little Christmas now.”

– We Need a Little Christmas Now

Auntie Mame reminds us that the years are not always kind or easy, but perspective can make all the difference. I remind myself that I am not the only parent flying solo in the holiday sleigh each year and that others face far greater challenges than I do.

Even if you have to pour it for yourself, seeing your glass of eggnog as half full, focusing on the positive, and doing what makes you happy can be the ticket to a better holiday. You’ll also be setting a great example for your kids in the process.

“Faithful friends who are dear to us, Gather near to us once more.”

– Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

One of the hardest holidays for me was when I didn’t have my daughter and couldn’t make it home to be with my family. I was planning to volunteer Christmas morning and then spend the rest of the day alone. While I’m sure that would have been okay, I’m very glad that I accepted a gracious invitation to join a friend and his family for Christmas dinner. I was really hesitant to go, but had a great time. I was very touched by their kindness.

I thought about that experience when reading that a Canadian single mother and toddler reached out on Craig’s List looking for somewhere to go for Christmas, in part because her daughter’s dad has her this Christmas. I’m not saying you should go that route though I’m thrilled that it worked out for that mom. But my takeaway is that it’s okay to say that you don’t want to be alone and to ask for company. If you can, give your friends a chance to be there for you.

That also means talking about sharing our kids at the holidays. It is not nor should it be a taboo subject. There more we discuss it, the more normal it will seem to both us single parents and our children. Given that millions of children are in the situation, why wouldn’t we talk about it, normalize it, and share tips on how to make the best of it?

VProud.tv is doing just that with a new video sharing seven tips for co-parenting at the holidays. I was thrilled to contribute my two cents and even more excited to get valuable tips from Karen Cahn, Mandy Dawson, and Andrea Gribble, moms who have all been down the co-parenting road. Hearing what others parents do to making the best of a less than ideal situation and remind parents that they aren’t alone is hugely helpful.

“And wild and sweet the words repeat. Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.”

– I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

You probably knew it was coming, but I have to say it. Even if you have to dig down deep, have and demonstrate good will towards your ex and your former relatives. Whether or not they deserve it is irrelevant. It isn’t easy, but you never know if maybe that kindness will be what makes their hearts grow three sizes.

Most importantly, showing your children that you can be kind to adults on the other side of their family will go a long way toward bringing peace to them and their hearts, and what a true and lasting gift that is.

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The post Co-Parenting During the Holidays: Help From a Few Favorite Carols first appeared on BonBon Break.

It sounds silly, I know. But that space has taunted me. While it is as large as a small room, “crawlspace” would still be a better description of it. It is one of those dark areas under your house that was dug out, now has vinyl running across the floor and walls, and off in the corner the sump pump cranks away.

With no light fixture, it is illuminated only by what little light trickles through the hole in the wall that leads into it.

I am generally okay – not great, but okay – with enclosed spaces, but the dynamics of this space induced panic at the very suggestion of going in. I have peered from a distance, but haven’t been able to even muster the courage to pop my head in to look around.

Three years ago, my now ex-husband moved out. Still in the house with the kids, that room is now my responsibility. At that time, it felt like everything was. I was the one who had chosen to file. I was juggling going back to work with two small, very confused children, trying to take care of the house, and dealing with heartbreak, attorneys, and a lot of paperwork. I pushed taking care of that room back into a corner along with the most difficult thoughts to process, and struggled to make it through the days for myself and the kids.

As we found our new routine, I began cleaning out the house. It was calming, to sort, process and move on. These sessions became a quiet time where I could sort through the grief in my heart as well, working to release myself from the overpowering shame and sadness that flattened me so many days. A drawer here, a closet there, adding new accents to make the space mine.

Each time I considered a new project, I walked by the storage space uneasily. It held the darkest of anger, and both our biggest and most petty arguments: Who wanted to live where, who wanted what, who spent how much, and who did more.

One day when anger seeped over, I directed all of my rage to my ex’s empty boxes from some exercise equipment. Bulky, damp, and discarded, they sat just inside that dark room. I couldn’t have them in the house any longer, but could not catch my breath when I tried to step into the room. A family friend came over, handing each box out to me, and I rid myself of the clutter, another piece, another step forward.

Now a full three years since he moved out, I have just in the last month been able to think of this house as mine. While the foundation and much of the furniture is the same, I have made it my own with memories, elbow grease, and creating a home for my business here.

So it was time. I chose to make a lesson of it, gathering the kids. I told them that there will always be things that scare us, even as grownups, and that it is natural and okay. The most important thing is to have faith in yourself and the determination to push past fear. And, don’t be afraid to ask for a little help.

Armed with my Shop-Vac and flashlight, I told the kids I was going to clean out the storage space. They came down to the basement, but unimpressed, ran off to their toys. I made myself stop and breathe. I explored each corner, relinquishing the power the room held over me as I worked.

When I emerged, sweaty with both exertion and lingering anxiety, there was my daughter, wearing a broad smile, our camping lantern swaying in her hand. She asked if she could go inside, and she did, holding up her light and looking around.

It is just a room. I am going to be okay. We all are.

Head to the Front Porch

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 This post was written by Tracy Jensen exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post Moving Forward After Divorce first appeared on BonBon Break.

I inhale deeply, remembering that night almost five years ago when I had to tell him that we were not going back to the apartment we lived in with his dad.

He cried and asked to come home. I couldn’t tell him the truth so I told him we were staying with his grandparents for now.

He was only a little over three years old.

Gradually, I began to explain to him that his father and I were divorced. We lived our lives separately, but we both loved him greatly.

After his kindergarten graduation, I explained to him that being divorced means he now has two homes; he was lucky to have two homes full of people who loved him.

As my boy grew older things changed. Especially when Dan, now my fiancé, was introduced into his life.

He began to ask more questions.

“My Daddy said there is only one Dad and only one Mom.” I agreed. I told him Oom Dan will never replace his father, but that Oom Dan loves him like his own son.

This is why I stand firmly in asking my family to never speak negatively about his father, especially in front of him. Like it or not, he is still the father of my child and even divorce will never change that. Thankfully, my family is doing much better at this. I know it must be difficult for them considering what happened.

“Why did you and Daddy get divorced?”

“Come here Alex…sit with me…” I patted the bed and he snuggled close to me. I hugged him, wanting that hug to transfer all my love so he would feel how much I adored him. I needed him to know that his parents’ divorce had nothing to do with him.

“Sometimes, two people get married and then they later realize that they are happier when they are not together. It was not a mistake to marry your Dad. We have you and you are not a mistake. You are a blessing to us. Your Dad and I are happier now; we both have our own lives.”

I stopped and searched his face for traces of understanding.

Then the dam broke.

My boy cried big tears. He sobbed uncontrollably and my heart broke for him.

He curled up in a fetal position on my lap. Oh, my heart. I felt the hurt in his tears; I wished I could shield him from the pain and the confusion.

“It’s okay to feel sad Alex. It’s normal to feel that way.” Softly I rubbed his head and let him cry.

“You know I am happy with Dan, right?” his eyes looked straight into mine as I asked him this. “You know Dan and I are now engaged. We will get married soon.”

He nodded and wiped his face.

“Daddy is very happy too with his family now. You have a very cute little brother.” I’ve met the little boy before. He is cute and absolutely adores his big brother.

“Yes but he hits me sometimes…” I told him his little brother just needed his attention and wanted to play with him.

Fast forward to tonight when I had a chance to chat with my ex for a bit. We talked about the arrangement for Alex’s birthday. He celebrated his birthday this year with his Dad. We took turns for birthdays and the Holidays.

Then I asked him.

“Did Alex ever ask you why we got divorced? He asked me the last time he returned from your place.”

“No, not yet but I’m sure he will.”

I told him what had happened and how I thought Alex was trying to understand what happened to his parents. Wondering why we are not together like a normal family.

“We have to make sure he knows it was not his fault. Sometimes children blame themselves.” He said.

“I guess in school he feels different than his friends. I saw on his religion worksheet about happy families, etc.”

“Yes.”

“I guess maybe he was a bit worried that I’m not married yet. He keeps asking when Dan and I will get married.”

“Yes he does, because he mentions that here too. He wants to make sure everyone he loves is happy.

I was surprised by this but clearly; he is bound to say things about me and Dan when he is over at his Dad’s.

“He said Mommy and Dan will get married and I said yes because they love each other and are happy. And I am happy for Mommy.”

I had tears running down my face as I heard his words. He and I had come a long way. That’s what I had told Alex too before. That I am so happy for his father. That sweet boy must just want to make sure I am fine.

Oh bless you my boy.

“Yes, I’m sure he just wants you to be happy and make sure it’s okay with me.” He added.

We discussed it for a while and agreed that in his own mind he is trying to understand divorce and its aftermath. He’s trying to figure out what his parents moving on with their own lives really means.

If you are divorced how do you handle your children’s questions? 

Please share your experience in the comments section below. I’d love to hear it.

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The post Explaining Divorce to a Child first appeared on BonBon Break.

1. Remind her she’s not alone. She has you, after all. Reminding her once is probably not enough.

2. Cook her dinner and drop it off, or offer to eat with her. Casseroles are good because there are usually leftovers, so she’ll have two evenings “off.”

3. If you have kids of your own, schedule a play date with her. The kids can run amuck entertain themselves while you talk. You can still chat about “normal” things; in fact, it may help distract her, and let’s be honest — those kids are probably eavesdropping!

4. If you’re feeling especially brave, offer to watch her kiddos and send her off for some alone time or banish her to her room for a bubble bath.

5. Know any other moms going through the same thing? Would they be a good fit? Could you connect them with her?

6. Books for her kids (about divorce):

• Dinosaurs Divorce
• It’s Not Your Fault, Koko Bear
• When My Parents Forgot How to Be Friends
• Mom’s House, Dad’s House For Kids

7. Books for her (about divorce):

• How to Sleep Alone in a King-Size Bed
• Vicky Lansky’s Divorce Book for Parents
• What About the Kids? Raising Your Children Before, During, & After Divorce

8. Call, email, or text to check in, particularly when her kids are with their dad. While she may relish short breaks, she won’t be used to the silence and will worry a lot. She’ll welcome friendships and opportunities to be social. She might be reluctant to get out, but it’s good for her sometimes.

9. Divorce looks different for everyone, depending on the circumstances. What does she need? A gift card for gas or groceries? Financial or legal advice? An apartment? Someone to help her with the yard work? Especially if her family isn’t around or doesn’t live nearby, she may feel alone and reluctant to ask for help. Be the bridge. Do you know a lawyer or CPA she could talk to? Do you have a realtor friend? Do you have a teenager who wants to earn some extra cash by mowing her yard until she gets her bearings? Imagine yourself in her place for a minute and think about what you would need the most.

10. Hug her often. Don’t let her pull away. Don’t let her tell you she’s “fine.” She isn’t.

11. If the divorce is getting ugly and/or nasty, be aware that it’s virtually impossible not to choose sides; you may feel like you’re not in one camp or the other, but your actions speak louder than words.

12. When you chat with her, avoid general offers or statements like, “Let me know what I can do.” Instead, ask her directly:

*When can I bring you guys dinner?

*Can I grab any groceries for you while I’m at the store? Are you out of milk?

*Let’s meet for a cup of coffee. What day works best for you?

*I can come over to hang out with your kids on Monday or Tuesday. Which is best? I’d love for you to take some time for yourself.

13. If she is super reluctant or avoiding you, she probably feels embarrassed, lonely, overwhelmed, and afraid to ask for anything. You can still help! Send her a note in the mail. Ask your yard guy to do hers, or show up and get mowing, raking, weeding on your own. Write love notes all over her Facebook wall. Email her a list of divorce support group meetings in her area. Take her out to celebrate her independence (it’s okay if she cries). Get her a gift card to a grocery store (give it to her anonymously if you have to).

But most of all? Just be her friend. Let her know that will never change. Tell her over and over until she gets sick of hearing it. She needs you now more than ever. Your presence means more than anything.

Your constant friendship and loyalty are everything she needs while she’s going through divorce.

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This post was written by Erin Best exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post Easy Ways to Help a Newly Single Mom first appeared on BonBon Break.

I’ve used that phrase often. In the trenches of college. In the trenches of figuring out my career. In the trenches of planning a wedding. In the trenches of new motherhood. In the trenches of toddlerhood. I have never used that phrase for anything as painful as being in the trenches of going through a divorce.

I read a blurb today from one of my favorite female comedians, Amy Poehler, on the topic of divorce: “Imagine spreading everything you care about on a blanket and then tossing the whole thing up in the air. The process of divorce is about loading that blanket, throwing it up, watching it all spin, and worrying what stuff will break when it lands. When you are a person going through a divorce you feel incredibly alone, yet you are constantly reminded by society of how frequently divorce happens and how common it has become. You aren’t allowed to feel special, but no one knows the specific ways you are in pain.”

That last sentence completely resonated with me: You aren’t allowed to feel special, but no one knows the specific ways you are in pain.

It’s so very true. No one will ever truly know that pain as you experience it, even if they’ve been in a similar situation. No one knows the way you loved, the passion you felt, the way you gave, the way you cried, the hurt you endured, the specific feelings of rejection and betrayal, the unique way you have self-doubted, the contents and magnitude of the arguing, the inner struggle to stay or go multiple times, the different ways of finally letting go…I could go on and on. It would be remiss of me not to mention the pain that you now carry for your child(ren) throughout this process.

The pain of letting go of this family structure so they can have a happy, healthier mom…eventually. The pain of managing this for them in two separate houses. The pain of making them a statistic, being a “child of divorced parents.” It’s a heavy burden, this type of pain, in addition to your own pain. We can all agree that staying together for the kids is not the healthy choice to make but let’s face it, it’s the reason many of us stay longer than we should. No one wants this for their child. No one gets married and has a child to say, “Man, I cannot WAIT to go through my divorce so my kid can have two houses!” It’s the most painful part, your reflection in your child’s eyes, and yet, the most calming.

Friends can listen, identify, empathize, hug you, cry with you, ache for you, but they cannot live your pain, nor should they. It’s your path to walk, your pain to endure. “Lonely” is an understatement in these trenches.

The whole dynamic shift that occurs while going through this process is only comparable to a death. You’re missing this whole moving part of your life that you become so accustomed to and dependent on. You’re in this new world of self-reliance when you never wanted it or planned it this way. You’re now missing that emotional connection that you clung to for so long: that confidant, the person that had to listen to your work rants and that person you shared your dreams with. You’re now missing that physical connection: that person you woke up to and knew their morning routine, that person that you hugged at least a couple times a day, the person you’ve been most intimate with in life.

You’re now missing that “partner” connection: that person to call if you forgot to pick up milk on your drive home, that person to help fold laundry, your guaranteed social event date, your go-to person to take over the parenting responsibilities when you’ve just had enough. Even if you’re extremely independent, as I’ve always been, these missing pieces are all exhausting, especially with a child. Obviously sad, too, but exhausting because you’re now 100% self-reliant.

So, how do you put the pieces back together? All of these things you’ve piled on the blanket and threw up in the air are making their descent and you’re watching so many of them break as they land in different places. Some stay intact, but most are certainly broken. Everything you’ve known for however long (in my case, 12 years) has been undefined now. Everything.

You have to clean up now and redefine. The pieces will not fit back together where they were. It’s impossible, so you try to find where the pieces will fit now. You create this new normal for yourself and your child and slowly figure out where the pieces will fit. You sit with the pain when you need to because it’s grief and you have no choice but to look at it in the face. On good days, you say, “Fuck you, grief and sadness. I’m going to have a good day,” but on bad days (and there are A LOT of bad days) you sit with it, you become ok with it…and you learn from it.

And there it is, the purpose: learning. Throughout all of this, the only thing you’re truly gaining is an education. One that is so incredibly important. You learn about yourself. You learn that you’re much more capable than you ever gave yourself credit for. You learn that you’re a better parent because of this. You learn who truly loves you and how to give more of yourself to those people. You learn to stop giving to those that don’t. You learn how to be selfish, which is magical in it of itself. You learn how to self-preserve. You learn to see things with a fresh perspective. You judge less and love more. You learn how to forgive but not forget so you’re not tempted to go down that path again.

You just learn and there is so much value in that.

And about all of that loneliness? You learn it isn’t so terrible. You start your own morning routine. You realize that the laundry can stay in the fucking dryer for 3 days. You ride your bike up to the corner store for milk, just to get in that extra piece of exercise. You go to dinner alone and enjoy people watching. You plan a trip alone, somewhere where YOU’VE always wanted to go. You find your love for things that you didn’t know existed, like Ashtanga yoga and frilly bed quilts. You spend more time with friends and family. You shop for things only you like, not having to consider another’s taste. You enjoy one-on-one time with your child.

The list goes on but the point is, you’re redefining yourself. It’s an opportunity that not many people have in life or not many will take in life: making a new definition of who you are, here and now; meet yourself for the first time. How amazing is that?

Is the view from the trenches scary and sad? Yes. It’s a trench I never wanted to explore but life had bigger plans for me. It wanted me to see a new life and it wanted to teach me to let go of a relationship and a love that was not serving me anymore. I have to open my eyes and enjoy the view from here for now.

So, to those going through this process of divorce and are in the trenches, do I understand the specific ways you are in pain? No, but we’re still in it together and there is something amazing on the other side of all of this.

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 This post was syndicated with permission.

The post How am I? I am in the trenches first appeared on BonBon Break.

Dear Gwyneth,

I just read your statement about yours and Chris’ decision to ‘consciously uncouple’. I only read it because when I checked my Facebook feed, all I saw was a stream of vitriol aimed at you for your choice of words. Apparently, deciding to describe your marriage breakdown as ‘conscious uncoupling’ was pretentious, stupid and arrogant.

It was at that point that I decided to read your statement for myself because, clearly, you had created a massive controversy with your high-brow, idiotic and self-indulgent press release.

What I saw when I read your statement was quite different, Gwyneth. 

What I read was a carefully worded articulation of a couple who is enduring the pain and sadness of divorce, with the added pressure of having to go through it all under a global microscope. In your words, I saw love for your children. In your turn of phrase, I saw the intentional fore-thought for those children who, in the future may look up this day in their history. I saw words chosen to give them the solid belief that their parents’ choice to separate was steeped in love and care for their futures.

Gwyneth, I have never felt much of a connection with you (okay, none at all, let’s be honest) because the perfect, shiny, Hollywood life you’ve always presented as your own is so far removed from the chaos and flawed reality that is mine. I don’t aspire to be anything like you (and, thank all that is shiny for THAT, because I don’t have a hope of ever matching up) but today, I’m here with you. Today, I have your back.

Today, as the world rips you apart for your choice of words and for coining the pretentious term, ‘conscious uncoupling’, I’ll stand with you and offer a shoulder. I’ll do this for you because you never went into your marriage expecting it to end. You didn’t look into Chris’ eyes at the altar and look forward to this day. On the days the two of you welcomed each of your babies into the world, you certainly didn’t wish this for them. In this regard, we aren’t so different, are we?

Conscious Uncoupling is just Divorce. It’s just a fancy word to protect you from the same pain that accompanies every deceased marriage. Just as Goop is a shiny presentation of that messy thing I call Motherhood. Dressing something up doesn’t change what it is.

Today, you’re quite simply a woman – a mother – going through divorce.

Today I don’t see you as Gwyneth Paltrow, shiny and perfect. Today I see you as a woman in pain, a mother trying to create the best foundation for her children as their world shifts, a lost and sad person who does not deserve the flagellation that, right now, is assaulting you from your computer screen.

Today, I send you love and strength, and I wish you happiness.

Love,

Michelle

(Just another mama)

ABOUT MICHELLE: Michelle Lewsen is Editor at Bonbon Break and author of the blog, theycallmemummy.com where she talks about parenting, ADHD, the highs and lows of being a stay at home parent and, of course, the lessons she learns from her three children. She has 18 years’ experience as both an Art Director and Copywriter in the advertising industry and has multiple International Writing awards under her belt. In 2013, she was thrilled to be selected as a BlogHer Voice of the Year in the “Inspiration” category. Follow Michelle via Facebook |Pinterest | Twitter | Google+ | LinkedIn | Instagram

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This post was written by Michelle Lewsen exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC

The post What I’ve Learned: Gwyneth Paltrow is Human first appeared on BonBon Break.